Eternal Blue
by Meikomeia
Summary: Chapter 3 Summary: Mello's gone, and there's nothing anyone can do to change it. Matt confronts Near in an effort to put him in his place, but what is the outcome? Warning: Spoilers up to volume 7.
1. Of Pending Death

So, I was sitting listening to Song for Clay Disappear by Bloc Party… and I realized just how much those super guitars reminded me of Mello. Yes, dear, sweet Mello. It got me inspired, and so I wrote. Hope it isn't too cliché!

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Chapter One: Of Pending Death

Mello always had a mad stare, the kind that made a piece of you reel in fear while the other succumbed to admiration. Such a piercing gaze he had that was as wide and observant as L's, and yet was so diverse. Mello's were fiery, filled with a sinful mixture of passion and hatred while L's were somewhat innocent and curious, like he was constantly searching for something. No, Mello was much more the equivalent of a lunatic. Not of the rambling sort, most certainly, but of the type that seeks to harm or kill anything that upsets it in the slightest. He was very much a bomb, smirking silently as the seconds until detonation rapidly tick away.

Oh, how jealous of him I had been. From behind my shield of toys I would observe him prancing about with the other children of the Wammy House. So many days I would stare, coveting the life he carried with him, and the laughs he shared with the ones he called friends. He even had one that he seemed to do everything with, a certain young boy named Matt. I often found myself jealous of even him, third in line for position of L's successor. Secretly I yearned to be friends with Mello, to have someone to turn to when all else failed me. His life seemed perfect to me, his only worry was to catch up to my pace. I never thought that so hard, especially for someone as bright and utterly mad as Mello.

I believed with all my heart I had the much more grueling goal as the leading protégée to L, and in ways I was correct. The objective lay before me like a snaking chasm leading to a world kissed with light, a realm of praise and admiration. Only, every time I reached forwards to it, the glorious light would narrowly escape my grasp and leave L's terrible gaze looming just before me. To be the perfect imprint of L, somewhere within me I knew it was an unfeasible task.

However, that was then, when I was a young boy. When L was a god to me. As I aged, I drew a sharp, firm line between adoration and respect. I grew bombastic of my abilities and sought not only to become L's equal, but to surpass him. Ah, yes, that was around the time when the glitter of success faded and it became a most terrible obsession. Anyone with eyes could see the respect…and the hatred I held for L. Especially Mello.

That day the orphans of the Wammy House had been quite upset due to an abrupt shower that overcame their game of football. They were forced to file back into the orphanage, whining like small children who didn't get their way. I thought them foolish, and had been hiding behind a fort of blue Legos the entire day, building a skyscraper out of spades in order to complete my city of cards. I chewed on my lip as I cautiously set a final card just at the top, the ultimate piece to my expansive city.

I hadn't heard him come in, but his presence was evident as blue Legos scattered everywhere, crashing around me with a most resilient clatter. I couldn't suppress a gasp of shock and disgust as one of the small, sapphire cubes hurtled into my wondrous skyscraper. Like dominos, the cards gave way to one another, their fragile figures tumbling into more buildings which in turn tumbled into houses which proceeded to demolish my entire day's work. For a moment, I sat very, very still. The shock of the worthlessness of my labor pulled at my mind, causing gears to whirl and fasten and click. I knew that was the reaction Mello had expected of me.

"Isn't that a shame? Looks like you did all that work for nothing, Near," Mello commented almost casually. His Converse brushed bits of blue and thin, laminated sheets of paper out of his path as he drew closer to me. "Just like your ambitions to exceed L will be for nothing in the end. You will build your empire up, up, up, before it crumbles down when you realize that only one person can beat L, and you will discover without doubt, Near, that that person will be me."

He lowered his face to mine, and I gazed into those smoldering eyes. Subconsciously I was concerned about my own eyes, of all things. Mine were not wide like L's, but rather almond shaped and narrow. I had unexpressive eyes, quiet and dull. However, like both Mello's and L's my eyes were a deep abyss of black shadow, made so that they might analyze each and every detail laid before them. It was then that I realized, as I was piecing apart our differences and similarities; when suddenly, everything fell onto the table with a strident clatter. Mello and I, we were pieces, fragments of L's being. My mind had always led me to believe that we were something like dolls made to be just like L, only never meant to be quite as good. I'd thought I had to repair myself, work until blood came like sweat through my pores. But it hit me at what a fool I'd been to not have seen it. Mello and I were one half of the same coin, I had simply been fortunate enough to claim heads.

"What are you staring at, freak?" Mello chided after I didn't respond for lingering moments. I lowered my gaze to examine a card slumbering nearby. It was the King of Spades, and laying neatly aside it, the King of Diamonds. I picked them up gently, as if I were cradling some frail living creature. "What the hell are you doing?" Mello always got aggressive when he didn't understand someone's actions.

"You and I," I began softly, whispering such an odd tone it scared even myself, "we are the same card, just different class. Compared to the lesser cards we are almighty, untouchable. But then…" I pulled the Ace of Clubs from the rubble of my great empire. "L, the Ace, casts his deep shadow and we are compared to his perfection. Alone, we fail in his glamour." The smile inching upon my ghostly face was peculiarly not a wicked smirk like my customary grin. No, this smile was a most delicate and genuine one. I could tell Mello was frightened at seeing me like this, disgusted, but I could care less. "Don't you see Mello? Together we are not only perfect, but we are something much more. We are far greater than L could ever be! Together, we could defeat L once and for all!"

Happiness. Often affiliated with a smile and laughter. I couldn't believe that now, in front of a most distraught and taken aback face, I would witness such a miraculous feeling. Mello, however, would not stand for any joy in my heart whatsoever. I knew, staring up at the crease of his frown and the glitter dancing in his eyes. Oh yes, my happiness would be cut short without doubt. The fleeting smile fled my face and Mello's eyes, oh how the flame danced there! It was a flame of hatred overcoming his senses and causing him to sputter with resentment, with anger.

Mello barked, "Work w-with you? Ha! What a joke. I can beat L without your help, Near. I'll defeat both of you, alone!" He did seem utterly insane now. His entire face distorted into a scrambled mass of narrowed eyes, furrowed brow, a twisted frown. We remained there for what seemed an eternity, raging a silent war that could not be won by either force.

"Mello!" We both jumped slightly, turning ever slowly to greet the one who disturbed our battle. It was Matt hovering in the doorway. I clearly remember the confused expression labeled on his face as he took a huff from something forbidden on the grounds of the Wammy House. "What the hell are you t- never mind. I don't think I really care to hear. Listen, I've got a copy of GTA I snuck in. Let's go, Mello." Mello nodded and proceeded to follow Matt, he never would back down from any sort of challenge.

"Where did you get that?" I echoed after them, to this day, I still don't know what possessed me to ask the question. "Don't you know that's not allowed?" Matt just turned around with a roguish look presiding on his face. His brown eyes glittered threateningly, as if he was daring me to repeat myself.

The blond interrogated with a snooty air about him, "Now, Near. You aren't going to go ratting on our dearest Matt, are you?" I simply shrugged with an indifferent manner and scrupulously began to plaster the blue cubes together once again. "Come on, Matt. Let's leave him with his toys. We've got a game to play." Mello dashed off, but Matt hesitated in the doorway for a moment. I didn't look up for a while, I just continued about my own business, connecting the blocks as dutifully as a bricklayer. Finally, his presence was impossible to ignore and I looked up, catching him square in the eye.

"I heard your conversation. You know that'll never work, Near," I couldn't tell by Matt's tone what he was trying to get at, for he seemed far away and weary. However, his actions spoke with a force much more powerful than any words could ever present. He dropped the cigarette on the floorboards, placed his foot on the deadly thing, and ground it into a fine, gray powder. With that, he exited the room. Behind him, a feeling of cold hatred hovered in his place.

The remainder of the day passed with a quiet ease. With diligence I repaired my fort, the plastic azure gleaming first in sunlight, then moonlight. At the stroke of nine I was sent from my completed project and to my room to get ready for bed, along with my roommate, Jackal. After brushing my teeth and cleaning my face, I clambered into bed. As always, I slipped into sleep by the incessant chattering of Jackal who never seemed to put his wretched cell phone down.

My dreams came in a haze of nightmares. Blue blocks scattered across a black void and a teacup tumbled from the sky, shattering in their center. The founder of the Wammy House stared with unseeing eyes at the world of death, a shard of glass dug deep within his heart. I watched with horrified fascination as he crumpled to the ground, where he laid completely still. The void swallowed the images whole and millions of voices chanted _Kira_…_Kira…_ softly in the distance. There! L's eyes gazed down upon me, his smile wise beyond his years. The grin drifted somewhere far away as his eyes slowly began to close. I tried desperately to call out to him, to tell him not to close his eyes. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't listen to me.

A spoon fell from his hand, catching some concealed ray of light in a glimmer of silver. With that, L vanished into a milky black ooze. I felt myself being tugged away from the horrible place, and I did not struggle against the force. I blinked, and I was in the room Mello and Matt shared. They were playing some sort of sadistic videogame simultaneously. Their eyes were wide and their faces set with a lust for bloodshed. The blue glare of the television reflected with an eerie glow upon their faces, and soon Mello and Matt drifted away and all I could see was the flickering screen of the television.

They were in a decrepit city where buildings looked as if they might crumble at a single touch. A sound of sirens flooded like a constant through the place, and the buildings stared on with shattered eyes. Two men ran down the littered road like hell's fire burned at their feet, and following them were men clad in cobalt uniforms and sporting pistols. Matt's character, a rather aloof looking fellow with a mop of black hair and light stubble, stopped suddenly in the middle of the street. Mello allowed his scrawny, ragged looking man to continue fleeing as Matt explained his scheme to escape their wrath.

The police force swarmed over Matt's character like a pack of wolves cornering prey, and it seemed Matt knew there was no way out of his punishment. Without warning, he withdrew a pistol and threateningly placed the barrel against his temple. The character Mello played apologized with remorse as the trigger was pulled and a roar of fury shattered the fragile air. I stared in awe as Mello's character proceeded to run away from the gathering of police. Along the side of the road a sort of bulky van slumbered in wait. Mello's character shoved the burly man sitting in the driver's side out of the van and onto the pavement below. With the wicked grin of a madman, Mello brought the vehicle to a ridiculous speed. He swerved to and fro along the lanes with the grace only a harebrained young man could possess.

The car was speeding towards a colossal edifice, and Mello wasn't even trying to turn the podgy van about. A sickening crunch and a blinding flash of gold and red signified the explosion of the vehicle as it impacted with the building. Game Over claimed the blackening screen, before revealing large letters that read+50 bonus points for Kira! And then another that cried+100 bonus points for Near! I didn't understand why Kira and myself were listed on the screen. I hadn't played the game, and Kira certainly was nowhere around us.

"Mello, why am I on y-" I began, only to cut myself short. Mello and Matt were in no position to respond to my inquiry. Matt's figure slouched on the leather couch, arms dangling lifelessly at his side. A puddle of scarlet soaked his nightshirt where many holes punctured through to the flesh. His mahogany eyes stared with a startled glance through the yellow film affixed over his goggles, and from his gaping mouth blood trickled like a burbling stream of crimson. I gasped as several guns rained down before me, landing noisily on the floorboards at my feet. My scrutinizing eyes sought Mello. He sat stiffly with his hand clutching at his heart, and his mouth warped into a grimace of agony. His bizarre eyes were firmly shut against the pain he had endured. Everything disintegrated into an infinite black, excepting Mello's face which lingered in the swelling shadow…

I woke up the next morning to Jackal's irritable screams. With a heavy sigh I rolled out of the covers and peered over the edge of the bunk to see what the commotion was. There stood Linda, sheepishly presenting a battered cell phone to a most astonished Jackal. He had a green tint to his skin and his eyes bulged like he was going to hurl.

"What _happened_?" Jackal shrieked, looking almost as crazed as Mello. I propped my head on my hand and observed the show with interest.

Linda shamefacedly looped a finger around her champagne ringlets as she scuffed at the ground with her toe, "I washed it." Jackal looked like he'd been slapped. "I'm sorry! You left it in your pocket last night, and I...didn't know…" Her face spelled out how her heart was snapping in two. Linda was a very sensitive girl, prone to going to tears at even a hint of conflict. As level-headed and callous in nature as I generally was, I still couldn't stand to see her cry.

"Linda, have they served breakfast yet?" I questioned while twirling a bit of hair around my finger.

She had looked quite surprised to find that someone else was in the room with them. A rose flush crossed her face as she explained that, yes, breakfast had already been served. I scaled down the ladder then, and upon reaching the bottom grabbed Linda by the wrist. Her pallid green eyes widened slightly. At this I inwardly noted that she had too much shock and fear to be a capable successor to L.

I cleared my throat, and then I requested of Linda in a cool voice, "I don't want to go by myself. Won't you come with me?" Jackal's mouth set in a grim disdain and his eyes narrowed to slits. I ignored him, but Linda regarded him nervously. After a moment's hesitation Linda nodded curtly and began to lead me out of the room.

After successfully rescuing Linda from Jackal's rage, and having a light breakfast I found myself once more in the recreational room where my blue Lego fort presided. The cards were still scattered about in every direction possible, but something odd sat in the midst of all the wreckage. A small, poorly constructed house of cards settled there. It stared with a childlike inquisitiveness at me as I knelt aside it. At closer inspection, a white puzzle piece revealed itself from underneath its base.

As if I were batting away a particularly pesky insect, I swatted the cards aside to reveal a large pile of white puzzle pieces and their holder. In the bottom left corner of the holder a slip of paper was neatly tucked. I laced a strip of my pale hair around my finger as I gently removed the note from its resting place. Neat, crisp letters formed elegant but firm words on the small section of paper. It read:

Near:

I've been told you like puzzles, so I had Watari prepare this for you. Perhaps it will prove somewhat of a challenge?

-L

I remember a feeling of pride melt across my senses. L actually knew who I was, he even knew of my love for puzzles. I wondered what else he knew about me, as I picked up one of the odd white pieces. It was a difficult puzzle, indeed. Only three pieces had the black imprint of an L on their surface. The rest were all the same, small pieces swathed in a bath of ivory. My mind worked swiftly, calculating the size, the wedges and nooks of the pieces, and the edges that they might hold. I worked diligently, and apparently lost track of time as I heard laughter echoing in the hall.

"Hey, Near!" it was a collection of children clustered about the doorway. "Want to come play some football with us? We need a new goalie, 'cause Casper broke his leg."

A cold look crossed my face as I glanced up at them. It was a girl named Polly and her group. They were some of the stupidest children at the Wammy House. "No thank you," I declined tersely. Like disturbed hens they all began to cluck and gawk.

"Whatever, let's go," Polly motioned the others to follow her. Some muttered 'freak' and other rude terms under their breath as they past. However, their insults could not tear me down then. I felt too swollen with pride to be brought down by their childish name-calling. I continued working on the puzzle until it was late in the afternoon.

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**Author's Note:** Well, I do hope anyone who might have read this enjoyed it. I tried to get under Near's skin, but I'm not so sure I did a good enough job. I didn't get too descriptive with overall looks on anyone, because Near doesn't seem the type that really cares about that. (To me, anyway.) Seems more like he would be more concerned about how smart they were. So anyway, please leave a comment. I would really appreciate them on my first fan fiction! 


	2. A Lost Cause

**Author's Note:** Hello, everyone! Looks like this is chapter two of my Near story. :P This is the chapter where the spoilers really start kicking in. Volume 7 spoilers throughout, loves, so be sure to be careful when reading!

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**Chapter Two: **A Lost Cause

Only a few pieces remained in the puzzle as a brilliant sunset sparkled through the bay window and into the playroom. The room stained a warm rose tone as the sun flickered against the mountains framing the horizon. I felt rather numb whilst I sat in the ethereal glow cast by the waning light. The charming delight from earlier within the day had worn almost completely away, swept away like the tide of an ocean. The white pieces of the puzzle laid out before me in distant clusters.

I had been forced to reflect on my obstacle once more, how L was still something that I had to face and defeat whether I wished it or not. How Mello was a road block in the scheme of things, nothing but a stubborn fool who wouldn't accept my help. My frustration developed the more I reasoned, and I had torn the note into shreds due to my dissatisfaction. The puzzle that accompanied it was the only thing I had to cleanse my mind of my own wretchedness.

"Near," it was a soft-spoken call, but it startled me nonetheless. Rodgers stood tentatively in the doorway, and I knew he was trying to decipher what I was doing behind my barricade of blue. My eyes fastened to his warm gaze. I could not bare how kind and gentle the old men of the Wammy House were. It made me utterly sick the way they beamed at me, as if they were my family. Back then, to myself, I was a marble statue, callous and perfect. Far too good to have a family of worthless old men. "You need to come to my office. I," his normally cheery gaze dropped to the floor, and his voice faltered for a moment, "I have some tragic news to tell you." I noted that his eyes seemed to be watering and the corners of his mouth trembled as if he were trying to hold back a terrible sadness.

I said nothing back to him, embarrassed by seeing the fragile old man's tears. I simply gathered the few remaining puzzle pieces in my hand and tucked the board under my arm. Rodgers shoved onto his face a forced smile as I shuffled after him.

Upon entering his office, I set grim eyes upon Mello. He was standing with crossed arms and a chocolate bar clutched tightly in his fingers. He was attempting to ignore my presence, but he kept glancing shiftily back at me as I knelt next to my new puzzle. It was as if he was awaiting my move, examining my actions in case I pulled another eccentric theory out of the air. Rodgers went behind his stately mahogany desk and slowly sat down. His hands trembled as he fiddled with a fountain pen, staring intently at its slender figure. Mello was growing irritable at the silence eating away in the vacant spaces. I also thought it was most unbearable; being a prickled silence of the like that is given at a funeral. _A funeral…_ I thought, no, it couldn't be that. I stared down at the puzzle, the L was complete, and only a few pieces were left…so few were left to place in. _It couldn't be… I couldn't be… It had to be. _Logic stared me in the face with its most hideous leer.

"L," Rodgers began, struggling to keep a chokehold on his composure. My entire body went rigid. "L has been…that is to say… Well…" Mello's breath caught in his throat. He was one step behind me once more. "L has died. It is time for…for the both of you to rise up and fill his place." A chill filled the air, the knowledge of death blistered our senses.

Mello's eyes bugled until he looked like some sort of strange insect and his mouth hung open in a cavernous gape. "_What?_" I heard his shriek somewhere remote. My head fell onto my shoulder and anger swelled into my chest. I took the puzzle and let each of the pieces tumble from their position.

I whispered, cold and calm, "If you cannot win the game, if you cannot solve the puzzle, you are just a loser." Mello stared back at me like I was crazy, eyes still looking like they might pop from the very socket. There I went again, pulling a cloak of hatred and apathy over myself. I was trying so desperately to prove that I was stronger, more impenetrable than everyone else. On the exterior I wrought the perfect figure to support this illusion I cast. Inside, however, I was reeling. L, the closest thing to a godly figure there was, died. Just like that. Inwardly I was screaming and screaming, crying and tearing away at my heart. How could I have said something like that to the only person who really meant anything to me? He had been my entire life's work. He was my enemy, my hero.

"Was he killed by Kira?" Mello was certainly not mellow at the moment. He was screeching like a wounded feline. He was trembling and shaking as he paced like a caged lion. It made me sick to see him like that, showing the feelings I knew deep inside were mine as well. Rodgers let the pen clatter back onto the desk, and slowly he nodded like he wasn't completely sure of himself. Mello's hand clutched into a fist. His fingers were digging so tightly into the flesh his entire arm shook.

"And he left no will." This news was perhaps even more shattering than the last. Even my hardened soul twisted into a dumbfounded state. "Therefore, I advise that the both of you join forces and share the title of L." Ah, yes. My plan was back into my hands. Only, it didn't have such a handsome silver lining any longer.

"I see no problem with this idea," I determined without hesitation. The verdict rested upon Mello's shoulders, and the air was suffocating with apprehension. We all knew what Mello's answer would be. Two of us dreaded it. There was no telling what the other might feel.

Mello's crazed eyes turned ever so slowly to stare at me. So many emotions ran through them, danced in those black orbs. Disgust, hate, fear, revulsion, envy, and sadness wadded into one crumpled expression.

He cried, "Absolutely not! I won't work with him!" I stared up at him, and inwardly wondered if he might have glimpsed the hurt there. A vicious, crazed laughter trickled through his throat and melted against his lips. He was stumbling now, jerking spastically and laughing a gruesome cackle. He was backing up, pulling away from us. Mello was an instigated beast that was so befuddled he barely could settle on what his next action might be. He turned then, turned about and began to run. Rodgers immediately rose from his chair, following after him in large strides. However, I remained locked in my position on the floor. I knew it would be pointless to attempt to chase after Mello, after all, he was the fastest child in the entire Wammy House.

Matt's weary call chased after him, beseeching to know something he knew would have no response, "Mello! Where are you going?" Mello couldn't answer if he wanted to. We all knew, even the one who initiated the question. He didn't know where he was going himself.

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**Author's Note: **Ok, so I hope with all my heart everyone enjoyed this. Please leave comments, 'cose I love them dearly! Oh, and sorry this chapter was so short. I tried to make it longer, but I just felt like I'd mess up the mood if I put much more onto it. Well, until next chapter! 


	3. The Wolf Bears His Fangs

**Author's Note: **Here we are at Chapter 3. I've got a bit of worries about this one, but I hope you all enjoy it!

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Death Note. All that good stuff.

**Warnings for Chapter: **Still just a spoiler warning for volume seven pretty much.

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**Chapter Three: The Wolf Bears his Fangs**

I chewed on my lip as I sat by myself in the cafeteria. The food was gruel that day, a bit of mush here and a smidgeon of slop there. Generally the food wasn't so unappetizing, so I couldn't decipher why we were being served such a disgusting meal. I prodded at it with the plastic fork they had provided, again, oddly tacky for such a refined place.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" I slowly glanced over while struggling to get a grip on the slosh meant to nourish us until supper. The charming voice came from Linda, who allowed her tray to clatter next to mine unceremoniously. My brow furrowed to see the blonde observing me so nonchalantly as she took her seat aside me. I lurched to the opposite side of her piercing gaze, but she either failed to see or ignored the action. "Most of the cooks aren't here today."

I was doing my best to disregard her, but it wasn't working out as well as I had thought. She had my attention, and she was well aware of it. So I asked away. "Why aren't they here?"

Linda leaned in so close I could smell the peppermint on her breath, and she whispered, "They say the entire staff is off today. Say they're searching everywhere possible for Mello." My brow furrowed and knitted upon my forehead. The logic of their actions made no sense whatsoever. True, Mello had been gone many months, but it wasn't as if this was the first time the event came about. Mello ran away time and time again, but each time he returned without fuss and of his own accord. It was his way of coping with others. His way of escaping the pressure of the Whammy House in order to reflect on past experiences.

I ran my finger across the oak table. It wasn't quite so smooth as it once had been. It even splintered up in patches across its length. I looked into Linda's radiant emerald eyes, and cocked my head to the side.

"Why?"

Linda scowled down at the table; I could tell some looming secret rested on her shoulders that she was torn to share. Her shifting glance up at me confirmed the impression.

With a sigh she hissed under her breath, "You've got to promise me that you won't tell the others, Near." She was waiting for some sort of reaction in my eyes, a twist of my lips, perhaps a bit of a glower. Though, I presented nothing of the sort, just a curt nod gesturing for her to go on with her tale. "They've dug everywhere and he's nowhere to be found. They've checked every hideout of his, every friend's house he could've hidden at. No one revealed anything. Matt caved in a couple of months back, though. Mello called him. He told Matt he _stole _some money... and he was going to use it to fly to America."

"_America?_" I spat. Distraught and disgust punctured the tones of my voice. "What would he want in _America_?"

Linda provided a feeble shrug, glanced about once or twice as if checking for spies, before leaning in and cupping my ear between her two hands, "Rodgers isn't taking a vacation in America; he's actually been searching for information on Mello's whereabouts. Rumors have been circulating in the darker corners there, he said. Peculiar secrets of evil deeds. Apparently, he's joined strange company, some sort of underground group akin to the mafia. That is, of course, if the rumors are to be believed."

A deep frowned carved itself across my face. Linda certainly wasn't the type to lie, but this information was almost too difficult to process even for myself. I took the head and tail of the fork between my fingers and began to bend it. The white plastic began to tremor from the intense pressure. Finally, it snapped neatly in two and dropped onto the tray below.

"So Mello's gone...and... he isn't coming back. That's what you're getting at, isn't it?" I interrogated viciously. My temper was rising because I didn't like what I was hearing. The thought made my stomach churn.

Linda sighed and chased her food about with her own fork, "Yes. I guess so. I guess... I'll miss him. I mean, he was always so loud, and when he was here everything was so... well not really cheerful. Lively. That's the word I'm looking for. I'll miss that, I think. Won't you, Near?"

I looked her in the eyes, and produced none other than a blatant lie, "No. I don't suppose I will."

The blonde looked rather forlornly at her hands.

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Linda would have no idea how much I would come to miss Mello. Then again, I suppose I didn't either. However, I still don't believe I suffered half of what Matt did. 

Now Matt had never been the most outgoing child at the Whammy House, but he wasn't antisocial in the least. He had a fairly large grouping of friends that he would tag along with. His laugh was booming; you could always tell when he was playing a game with his friends due to his whoops of victory or his groans of loss. But Matt became something of a hollow shell of what he once was. He hardly spoke and never went out. He claimed he wasn't fond of the outdoors, and he suddenly suffered a "dreadful case of asthma."

I knew better, of course. His "asthma" was the result of his sudden lust for cigarettes. As sure as the orphan was breathing, he was sucking poison from the end of a cigarette. Constantly his eyes glued themselves to his television screen, and every time I passed I was reminded of that eerie dream. The bluish illumination painted on his face reminded me of something uncanny and otherworldly. The emotion scrawled on his face was as legible as a school boy's handwriting. Completely incapable of reading.

My heart sunk each time I saw him. I'd never been so fond of Matt due to envy and my own egocentricity, but it hurt to observe the worthlessness of his life swelling in Mello's wake. I would often peep out of my toy room to take a break for a light snack, only to find Matt sitting before a blank television screen, staring into the inky blackness. Other times, I would make my way down to the foot of the staircase to deliver a message to someone or perform some other task, and discover Matt sitting at the base, munching intently on a chocolate bar while looking somewhat forgotten and alone.

However, being the callous and prideful beast I was, I passed by him without a solitary word every single time. Not once did I doubt my course of action. I was the silent and noble soldier that wearily turned his head to avoid the sight of his wounded enemy. I had no time to help those who once fought against me. Only a fool would do something so irrational. Though, these ideals are what brought me to become even more hated in the leagues of the Whammy House. No doubt the most despised child in its entirety.

These feelings radiated from the children. They shot me looks that, if only I thought them worthy of a passing glance, would melt me to the core. Behind their hands they whispered crude terms and somewhat correct gossip all focused on me. I was on their minds constantly, the beacon that shone of success and fame, but bore neither love nor shame.

But none of this concerned me in the slightest. I didn't care about their opinions; besides that, there were a few who still enjoyed my company. Linda was tagging around me a bit ever since Mello vanished. Constantly she was checking up on me in the toy room, adding bits of green or yellow to my blue fortress. I would only remove them, however, as blue was the only color I felt suited for my realm.

In fact, it was as I was renovating Linda's changes to my structure when I smelt it. I never found something so appalling to the scent. It filled the air and threatened to choke and close, cackled as it filled every nook, ever cranny of your lungs. The dark gray fibers of smoke danced around the room. They chased into my senses and caused my head to ache with a vibrant intensity. A bitter taste laced onto my tongue and I gagged at its presence. It was overwhelming.

The floorboards groaned in protest at the weight pressed down upon it. Heavy thuds signaled my eyes and I turned my face to greet the wielder of smoke, though I already knew its owner.

"Matt."

I addressed him coolly as I draped my arms over the towering stronghold, which expanded in height and length each day. I leaned my head upon my shoulder as I watched him and his indecipherable eyes. We were examining one another thoroughly. Whoever could figure out the other first was the winner. Though, neither was advancing. We had each other guard for guard. Nothing faltered on our faces, and no body language gave away our hidden secrets.

Matt grew bored of the game and crouched just in front of me. His chestnut tresses billowed into his face, spilled into his eyes. He looked unkempt, almost dirty, perhaps because of the toll the smoke was taking upon him. Slight bags lingered beneath his eyes. But there was nothing unsightly about the chocolate gaze that echoed of fire and revulsion.

He swiped his hair out of his eyes to examine me more scrupulously, and inside I was shuddering. Even Mello hadn't given me such a wilting look. The cigarette pressed to his dry, slightly cracked lips and then smoke billowed into my face in a thick plume.

"Near," his voice was colder than mine, more twisted than mine. "Why are you looking so sick? Just a moment ago you seemed pretty...oh, I dunno. Nonchalant."

My brow drew.

Matt chuckled with coldhearted undertones, "Oh, that's right. You don't do so well with smoke, do you? Mello didn't have a problem with it. But Mello isn't here anymore. You know that, don't you? He apparently took off after Rodgers had a talk with you and him. Ole Rodgers has been telling me a thing or two. He said that Mello ran off because he was angry at being one-upped by you. Again. So basically you drove him off. I bet that dense idea of yours didn't help things too much though, huh? Ha! And you don't even attempt to apologize for driving him off. Everyone knows it was you that did it, Near."

I'd never witnessed Matt's anger, and I never realized the bonds he and Mello shared. I had always supposed they were nothing but dog and master. Matt would one day realize how poorly he was treated and would one day run off to find freedom, or simply a new master, however, that dog apparently knew where his loyalties stood.

Absorbed in my thoughts, I took the small blue robot laying aside me, and began to slowly swivel his head about. After a moment, the top lurched and with a soft pop proceeded to tear away from the knob it was affixed to. I thoughtfully peered at the small cube, before bouncing it lightly in the center of my palm, as if testing its weight.

"Matt, you know what?" I garbed an innocent air. "I miss Mello, too. But... it's evident he's not coming back." I sighed, and allowed my chin to droop onto the Legos supporting me. "I've also been thinking. Don't you think, if Mello was such a close friend of yours, he would have taken you with him? And yet, he's abandoned you. Left you here in the Whammy House. I could have sworn I've heard you tell him about how badly you want to get out of this place. How you yearn for a life of freedom, away from the shackles this place burdens us with."

Matt attempted to counter with a protest. However, he couldn't even scrape up a swipe during our duel.

Inwardly, I smirked. I would be winning today's match. "You were nothing but a toy to him." On cue, I jerked the robot's arms up, and began to spin him in circles. "In his eyes, he held you as something to keep him entertained at the Whammy House. If there was something more to this, don't you think he would tell you where he goes all of the time? Don't you think he would let you escape with him? Just one little time?" I sweetly smiled as I presented the robot to him.

"Shut the hell up, Near!" Matt barked, backing away. Fear creased his face. "Mello can't tell me where he's going, because he doesn't know himself. You know that! There is no way for him to bring me with him because if I came, I would be... well. I would be in weighing him down, and we might not be able to escape. It's not that he doesn't want to take me!" I had him doubting himself, and his heart was going out.

Normally I wouldn't be so cruel to Matt. But on this day I was inspired by a bit of conversation I had overheard previously. It was Matt who had been telling everyone that I drove Mello off, or no one would have known. They might have suspected a bit, but they wouldn't have the details, most of which were filled with false pretenses. My anger was erupting like a demon hurtling up from its hellhole. I had no way of halting its progress. I was the alpha male cornering the traitor, bearing my fangs against him.

Matt left then, more indecisive in himself and his friendship to Mello than ever before. Otherwise, our talk changed nothing. I still caught sight of him staring at the emptiness splayed upon his TV screen, still spied him munching chocolate at the foot of the stairs. Still caught him blessing a picture of Mello with furtive glances.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to those who have reviewed. You don't know **how** much those mean to me and how much they've inspired me to write more on this. And please, if you've read this story... review it! I don't care if you hated it, I would still like for you to review telling me why (without flaming _of course_) and maybe point out some things I can fix! Also, I felt a bit...iffy about this chapter. It didn't speak to me like the other two did. I didn't feel like Near was captured correctly or perhaps it was Matt...? I can't really be sure. :/ If you happen to know, I would love to be informed, so please do. I want to grow in my writing. 


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